


Blergh

by LissaTuppin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Embarrassment, F/F, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaTuppin/pseuds/LissaTuppin
Summary: Ginny is lost for words when Luna shakes her awake in the middle of the night.





	Blergh

“Sweetie, wake up.” 

“Blergh?!” blerghed Ginny, blerghily. Hands were shaking her gently. Luna’s hands. Her head was fuzzy, her floral print pajamas clung damply to her back and bum, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep.

“Sweetie,” said Luna. “Wake up. You wet the bed.”

“Blergh?!” Her hands shot to her waist. _Oh. Oh no._ It was true. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.” She jerked away and buried her face in her pillows, trying to disappear. Luna would hate her. Fluff muffled her words, which merely restated the obvious. “I wet the bed.”

“I know,” said Luna, parting Ginny’s hair to lightly kiss the back of her neck. “I’m surprised it wasn’t me this time, too.”

She responded with additional burrowing.

Luna was stroking her hair. “Oh, Ginny. Are you embarrassed? Don’t be embarrassed. I know it wasn’t your fault. It was just an accident.” 

“Bleeergh,” wailed Ginny. Luna could be soothing and sweet all she wanted, but that didn’t change facts—she was covered in pee.

“Oh, Ginny! There, there! Would it help if I reminded you about all the times I’ve weed myself?” Luna kissed her again, and gently squeezed her bum. Her _wet_ bum, Ginny couldn’t help but think, but shivers ran up her spine nonetheless.

“Maybe,” said Ginny, into her pillow, although that too sounded an awful lot like _blergh_. 

“Well,” she began, drawing out the word with a flourish. Luna was a consummate story teller, even now at four in the morning, lying between wet sheets and her wet dearie. “Once upon a time, and by once upon a time, I mean just last week, we were making out just over in the other room, and I really, really, _really_ had to go. Now, how badly did I have to go?”

“Really badly?” Ginny’s words were adjacent to actual words this time, having parted her face—just barely—from the pillow. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luna propped up one elbow, and if she had to guess in the dark, gazing at her with warm affection.

“That’s right,” said Luna, patting Ginny’s bum again, approvingly. “Very badly indeed. So badly, in fact, I said to you, ‘Ginevra, I’m am greatly afeared that if you do not grant me leave me to arise posthaste from this divan, I possess full certitude that I shall suffer a calamitous misfortune.’”

Ginny laughed, her wet pajamas almost still warm and almost forgotten. “Lu, you weren’t half so formal!” 

“Wasn’t I?”

“No! And I quote, in your cutest voice, ’I need to tinkle!’”

“Hmm,” said Luna. “Well, so I did. Of course that was on account of the fact that I really had to tinkle. You might remember. And do you remember what happened next?”

Ginny blushed. “You didn’t make it,” she whispered.

“Certainly not! No sooner had you let me up than I was weeing in my undies.” She was stroking her back now, and playing with her hair. “And do you remember what happened next?”

“I think so.” She had squeezed her tight and told her it was okay, and later they had laughed about it a little. 

“You squeezed me tight and told me it was okay, and later we laughed about it a little. So you see, love, there’s no need to be embarrassed, especially now it has become plain we have an infestation of Nickering Puddlers in the room—they tend to have this effect on unsuspecting witches, you know—and I will love you no matter how many times you wet the bed.”

“Blergh!” said Ginny, this time because she had snuggled her face into Luna’s side. What she meant, of course, was “You’re the best!”—but Luna knew.

“Why, yes,” said Luna. “I agree that I am.” She patted Ginny’s bum again. “Now,” she said, “why don’t I deal with these Puddlers, and you nip along to the bath?”


End file.
